Priorities
by Colby Whitaker
Summary: House and Cameron's kiss in Half-Wit goes a little differently than expected... After all, Cameron has to set her priorities straight. Oneshot, no smut.


**I DO NOT OWN HOUSE, M.D., ITS CHARACTERS,… ETC.**

**AN: Hello all, this is my first House fic (yay!), which is surprising considering how obsessed I am with it :) I don't really ship anything with House because I just enjoy the awesomeness of the show as a whole and the constantly changing dynamics between the characters, but if I had to choose I would ship Chase and Cameron. So… my point is that this really came out of nowhere. It is short… Hope you like it!**

"This is a letter of recommendation, I'm applying for a job at Penn," I say quickly. Unfolding the paper with a crinkling snap, I shove it in House's face before he can react.

I say it quickly to cut short his reaction and a conversation. Everything with House is a mystery, a psychology experiment, a philosophical debate that doesn't play by the rules of philosophy. And no conversation, no House-esque Freudian Analysis or Wilson-esque moral dissection ends well for me. I simply put my heart on the line, trying to master both, and end up with a Cameron-esque confusion that might make House think for a moment, but usually just makes him more confident in his confounding abilities.

I won't give him time to analyze and say all the right, bitingly witty things that will make me regret everything. I'm not ready for any of it. Because I'm not sure.

When I look at him, his eyes are involved and his face is a mask of indifference. "Thank you for writing your own. Sure my thoughts are beautifully phrased." He signs the paper quickly and hands it back to me.

"Thank you for signing it. Saves me from having to fake your signature." I hope now is one of those times he decides silence is the most acerbic criticism.

I stuff the paper in an envelope with slightly fumbling hands, trying to be hasty and get on with what I really came for before he can speak.

"Stay away from Weiss. He cries with his patients. Holds their hands as they die," House says in his voice. I always thought his voice fit him very well- gruff, unforgiving, speculative. Not that... A voice can really be so described. But it's the details that I notice, the traits and the moments of humanity and the secrets that double as explanations. I pay close attention. At least, to House.

"He won't like you," House continues. In my thoughts, I'd forgotten about Weiss, and I blink in surprise.

House takes this as offense, and he provides an explanation. "Your newfound nonchalance in the face of cancer."

I look down, thinking of my next move. "I thought you'd find it appealing."

"Twenty seconds. Pretty good."

"For what?"

"Time it took you to go from hard ass to human being."

House stands up, his movement labored, and takes a limping step towards me. His eyes stare squarely into my soul, it seems, straight into the fake adoration I'm about to show and everything that's real about it. "You really want to leave?"

"If you're not here, there's not much point in staying," I say. This sounds desperate, fake, even to me. Even if I really felt this ages ago, when I had feelings for him, and even if part of it is still true.

House cocks his head, suspicious. "I'm not dead yet."

I don't love House. I'm sure of that. I've moved on, learned my lesson, found something new and good in Chase. But that doesn't mean that I don't have _feelings_ for him. Feelings that I don't think I'll ever be able to forget, Chase or not.

Which is what makes talking to House hard, what makes leaving hard, and what makes what I'm about to do excruciating. Because I'm afraid... I'm afraid I'll like it too much. And that would be the end of my self-respect, because House will never return my affections, even if they come back, and I won't take any more rejection from an ass. I'm better than that, and I came to this conclusion a long time ago.

But it seems like an even longer time since I've been perfectly happy, the way the ghostly hope of having House made me happy.

I move forward slowly, ever so slowly.

"What are you doing?"

My face, inches from his now. My hands reach up to run across the stubble on both sides of his square jaw, stroking his cheekbones with a feathery touch.

"I know this must be a turn-on for you."

I ignore him.

Just centimeters now, and my eyes meet his as our lips brush for the first time. As close as we've ever been, and the only emotion I can see in his eyes can't quite be called expectancy, but more... Waiting. Waiting, stock still.

My eyes close, and I press down on his mouth.

The sensation of kissing House is lightning quick, and spans for an eternity. I'm not aware of every detail, every fluctuation of expression or exact touch. But instead, in a new, uncharted sense of observation, I'm aware of just _him_.

It's overwhelming, an aerial view of everything House is, a blur of his entire being, a culmination of feeling that doesn't need specifics but just the perfect view of passion as a whole.

And in this raging, unexpected blur I forget the syringe in my coat pocket... for much more important things.

**Thanks so much for reading! PLEASE review! :)**


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